Lunatic Fringe

Joe B somehow defied the laws of everything I have ever learned and turned in a solid day at the ballfield this past weekend. Consistently displaying doubles power with a propensity to pull the ball down the line; this after staying up until 7:30 in the morning and dominating a plate of sin at Marlogg's. Sadly Joe B. Lost, well not sadly at all actually, because I won. And it's never sad when I win. Interesting corollary: It is my contention that whenever Chip and I are on the same team we do not lose, therefore this will now be given as fact, and you will use it as such going forward. Marc Reina has a good thing going with his quote of the day, and needs to begin archiving them for my future enjoyment, check it out kids. Interesting tidbit: Marc Reina's grad party video is set to drop soon, check it out when you get the chance, very nicely done, and above all, hilarious. Random observations: Guys aren't afraid to admit that they enjoy the new Justin Timberlake joint, m...

Is this what I wanted? To be alone, scrawling frantic thoughts onto the darkness? Doesn't matter now, wouldn't have mattered no matter what. These were choices made in different times, the present is merely a consequence of the past. But they're all right, and it's alright, about how you won. If I had a choice I'd have wanted it this way anyhow, or at least I like to believe. In way it's true too, the first time you say I love you, the first time you really mean the words, "I love you." Well, that's it really, every moment from there on out are your great expectations of what love should be, no matter how hard we fall, or how easy you fly away, it all goes from there. You see, everything, for everyone, no matter who you are, is new at least once, some things are new a million times over, this is certainly true for the lucky ones, who never lose that "holy curiosity." And that just might be me, but I'm not really sure, I kind of always...

Tired of the sunset. I can't stop listening to Boston, by Augustana. Fantastic song. And currently one of the myriad of books I'm plowing through is Killing Yourself to Live , I hate Chuck Klosterman, he steals all of my thoughts somehow and writes them down with much better syntax than I. Which in actuality makes him awesome. I was in Seattle this past week, I am decidedly neutral about Seattle, and for that I blame Seattle. There's some sort of impasse between the region and myself, supposedly it's beautiful, I can't say I disagree, though I can't say I myself found it to be a beautiful place. The feeling is like early November, the clouds seem real heavy, like a storm is near, but nothing really happens; two days of that is more than enough for a mindset like mine. But I'll digress for a moment, in the interest of sounding interesting, and relate the events of Thursday evening as I found them to be, well, interesting, for lack of a more interesting turn o...

I'm in Seattle. There are a good amount of solid looking broads. They hide their restaurants cleverly, it gets dark out later here...They put peppers and carrots on my fettucinni alfredo, I did not like that. Also I realized I like when two girls dance with each other, in a fun-having fashion, it's a little party in my mind, that I invited myself to. And that's a good gift, one you give to yourself. I am rather jet-lagged right now, so are you, aren't you?

We're older now, and though time for it's part may have forgiven us our tresspasses, it seems a subtle shade of experience is about both our visages. The years a lonely mind has known show up like a long lost friend thought dead, and appears first in the face, whether it's welcome or unwanted. We both know it. And still she looks to me like she looks to the past, I suppose she sees in me something she's lost, like an old necklace or a warm, sunny day that's gone missing to the mind. A subtle smile brought on by nostalgia no doubt crosses her lips, and she's 17 again and wondering just where it is I'd gone to for so long. Though I've always been right here. She reminds me of things I've done, things she can't wholly remember, they're just feelings now, and it's not that they're anything beyond trivial. It's just that we were both there, so young once, and so beautiful; I'm sure she'd like if I could remember things as well,...

Ahh, the Stag Party season; that wonderful time of year when men of all ages are allowed to get together for one night and celebrate the end of one man's life of making stupid and questionable decisions as he enters into that state of being where all his stupid and questionable decisions are made for him: marriage. How does said male mark this passage? By getting all of his friends together so as to allow them to make his stupid and questionable decisions for him (you see, his fate is sealed, he can't make s+q decisions anymore, so must blame it on his friends when they do it for him). And depending on the type of friends the condemned man has, err, the groom to be, stag parties can vary from your basic, f-b-r (food, beer, raffle) setup to your more extravagant f-bo-m.r-btb's-s-a.p.h. (food, booze, multiple raffles, bus to bars, strippers, and possibly hookers). Short and sweet, or prolonged and painful, there is always one common element to these stag parties (two if the g...

Albany, this past weekend. The stage was set, people's birthdays were occurring, people's birthdays were on the brink. Tons of people born within a week, who can even stand it? To celebrate the sheer lunacy of that many days of birth I decided it best to get a room downtown at the Hampton Inn, it was a classy move on my part, and I highly recommend you do the same when you get a chance, it really completes the experience. For the sake of the principle parties involved, the bulk of my night was spent in the company of this guy, that guy, and the other guy. That guy and I showed up to this guy and the other guy's apartment around 7 or so, we had some delicious pizza, watched some hardcore tapes (wrestling, you dirty birds) and then Steve Maley and I headed over to Beth Wallace's/Chrissie's region for Beth's birthday, I was bored, because I was driving and could not drink, so I moped and then we left, because I was moping about the place (more accurately I was sitt...

First off, Happy Mother's Day - nice work ladies on creating people like me ;) You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around - and why his parents will always wave back. ~William D. Tammeus Love ya mom. 7/2/06 MKJ FARM Deansboro, NY -LYNYRD SKYNYRD- 7/4ish/06 Independence Day Insurrection (Think Turkey Bowl, with nicer weather) -details to come, cool website to come 8/8/06 SPAC -O.A.R. with Jack's Mannequin- 8/13/06 SPAC -Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers with Allman Brothers Band and The Derek Trucks Band- ---More to come, including my thoughts on Philly, Mitch-a-palooza, girls (of course), and the intrigue and splendor that is nonsense, personified. Stay tuned!

Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. Society is based on time, each day we are inundated with all things ranging from menial to monumental- things arranged by time. This is not new, we are aware of time as a thing limited, as precious as it is perpetual, our part of it of course being finite. In light of this we are ever punctual for work, never to miss a dentist's appointment nor show up late for any sort of meeting which allows for the further scheduling or multi-tasking of our busy, compartmentalized life; we're always on time for obligations. Dutifully we tune into the bad-news at 6, we watch it all again at 11. Perhaps we are creatures of habit, all things being cyclical, perhaps these are our responsibilities, things we must do. Waits, and will not go away; Waits, and will not be gainsaid; By the cares of yesterday Each to-day is heavier made; What is curious, however, is how we never fail t...

It's something singular really, when love goes down. Maybe in a day, or in a night, or in the succession of those times both, as they encompass a life. All love is selfish, but I guess it's supposed to be that way. Or how it should start, at least. From the moment of inception we learn to love the things we do out of a familiar feeling of well-being, a sort of inherent, happiness-survival instinct. And I say that because it is how I remember my life - my own memory being of course the ultimate subjective entity I could ever think to convey. Selfish love is that flame which burns brightest. It is the mystery by which all other high emotions in our later lives are judged, and in turn they somehow pale in comparison; first love is a fatal affliction, one which we first encounter when all is innocence, we struggle to remake the hour, the inception, and the sheer profundity of the moment, even at times to the detriment of all other happiness we may have perhaps experienced. Selfish ...

Loverboy has said as much, and it shall be so. This weekend by the numbers: Money spent= way too much (we're going to get a personal advisor to handle that from now on). Hours of sleep= 2 (as in far too little, having been woken up to find missing keys). Number of chicks passed out on the couch with me Friday night= 2 Number of chicks I got action from Friday night= 0 - 2 (they're sleepers, these ones). Ounces of malt liquor consumed outside for the parade Saturday morning, 40, of course (St. Ides, I love you). Age of hot girl downstairs at Jillians= "24, but I'm engaged." Number of seconds it took me to eat the most breathtaking chicken sandwich ever, probably 24, and it was single (unless you count the fries it came with, in that case it was married, with fries). Number of doors broken by me= 1, but it was encouraged and a nice thing to do, in order to gain entrance. Friday, Evening: But let's get back to the matter at hand; Friday night was a card playing, ...

so I won't. How's that? And then there are dreams that cannot die, but those are all the same too, so nobody really wants to hear about them. So how about Valentine's Day? Everybody get a dozen roses and a box of chocolates, or jack shit like I did. Not to say I'm complaining, on the contrary, it takes about five minutes of semi-lucid thought to weigh the pros and the cons of having a significant (b)other on this most auspicious of holidays (or most commercial, depending on how you feel about it's conception as a marketing tool). In the spirit of that, let's do a list and break this whole thing down. In no particular order, the top two reasons why it's nice to be single on Valentine's Day. Why two you ask? Well February is the second month of the year of course, and two is my second favorite number (who really gives a shit about that one): Relationships-wise, I really suck at holidays. I mean seriously, ask former significant others, if they can talk abo...

Friday night was an Albany night. Buck, P.J. Grates, and myself made our way down to the capitol region to visit and frolic with the Belmonts, one last shot for all that is happiness and the enjoyment of good friends. Of course gambling occurred, of course we went to the Washington Tavern, of course there was a fight, because I'm a magnet but that's ok. That being said, when three o'clock rolled around it was decided that DiCarlo's was the best order of business for all involved, at this point two girls were included, and that made us cool on the strip club circuit. B.Y.O.B. = bring your own broads and you look like a boss player, we brought our own broads. The drinks were a gazillion dollars a bottle, I'm probably gonna have a hard time getting my wife to relinquish our first born child, as it was deeded to DiCarlo's for a round. Easily the night was enjoyable, and I wish repeatedly to convey the happiness, it was a special night. But like all good things, we w...

...Unless that walk is to a gun shop or to cause much destruction. This here is the truth as I saw it, as it was handed down Saturday night, and like Ice Cube once said, "the names have been changed to protect the guilty." Hindsight being what it is, I believe I should have seen it all coming, and if I had Saturday to do over again I would have stayed home by myself and cried because I wasn't cool enough to get invited to Syracuse with the rest of Frankfort; rather I soldiered on, and boy was that a mistake. Of course the night started out peaceably enough, but don't they all start out that way? A small gathering was had at Timmy's, where we were all subjected to Patriots football, which probably put the crowd into a bad mood right out of the box. I countered by watching Cheaters, which is a phenomenal show, and there was this ugly guy cheating on his incredibly milf-worthy and tall and wonderful wife, but you know what they say, no matter how good looking a ...

The holiday season has steamed on through, how was yours? I had one of the best Christmases that I can remember. I made a concerted effort this year to try and see everybody significant in my life, and really slow everything down; and I can honestly say it went well, very stress free, something I didn't expect at all. For Christmas one of my gifts was a life-sized David Ortiz standup cut-out, needless to say it is a great conversation piece as well as an object which inspires terror deep in the bowels of my black lab Mickey. There have been some interesting encounters between those two, my two year old spoiled by my mother dog, and a large piece of cardboard, good times for all. This Christmas season featured some spirited board games between family members, I must say Chip and myself make a rather formidable Scene-It team, though Jon is pretty nasty, I think his girlfriend might have him in training watching Pretty in Pink and Sleepless in Seattle and shit like that, not that I...

To believe they never would. I had a wonderful time last night, attributable both to good company and negative ions (which in fact are the good ones, that make you feel giddy). But we'll get to that later, agreed? Once again the Christmas season is upon us, what's your favorite Christmas memory? Does everyone kinda have just one that always sums up to you what Christmas is all about? Whenever you hear a Christmas song or see lights or wrapping paper that's what you remember, you picture that person place or time and you go back to there. I know I have mine, and for the past few years that's what Christmas has been about. The thought of this idea always brings me back to something Tolstoy wrote, in his confessions; "That's what is amazing! It is possible to live only as long as life intoxicates us; once we are sober we cannot help seeing that it is all a delusion..." Each year it seems like it's harder to get away from the idea that my Christmas memory...

...another chick on my tip but it wonn't be you baby. Good times were had by all Friday. Some quick stats: Year until John Belmont knocks out Fro, this has been offered as a fact by John starting on November 5th 2005. Number of patties on my burger at Denny's. Number of people the waitresses could downsize their list of unattractive people at our table to. My favorite number (you needed to know that). o'clock a.m. the time we went to Denny's. ish, the time I got home. So there you go, after seconds of exhuastive research and twice as much time creative imbellishment you have the numbers for the night. Of course you will not get the number of spare tires Joe B. and I changed Friday night, nor the number of times I slapped the girl on the ass who was helping us, nor the number of excellent sexual innuendos I was able to make based on the common jargon and instruments used while changing a tire. But I owe you the loyal reader more than that, and I've got some time to k...

What do we know about social order? I have a sort of pet theory wherein people like to hang out in groups where everyone plays a role which is mutually beneficial to the pack. Like where semi-good looking chicks hang out with duds so as to look better, or where, well you get the idea, the term tool comes from situations as this being so. And then there is that rare breed of person who evolves within a group, so's to fill a role; or simply find a niche which is comfortable. It has been supposed, and I myself have nominated that the J-Bird is one of the finest haters our generation has ever seen. Let me espouse some of the qualifications and criteria which comprise a top-notch hater: The hater must have at some point been hated upon, the Bird has certainly been hated upon; you can ask his former girlfriend about this being so. The hater must be extremely hypocritical, such as when the Bird tells someone their actions are wrong when in fact he is simply jealous and would readily commi...